by Helen Brenna
He ripped her T-shirt in his haste to remove it. While she unhooked her own bra, he tugged off her jeans and thong in one sweep. Then she was naked and lying on his bed. If he hadn’t been throbbing so badly with the need to be inside her, he might have taken a few minutes to drink in the sight of her, those flashes of pale beauty and dark desire.
He wasn’t the only one in a hurry. She pulled him down, forcing him to land on top of her. “I’m too heavy. I’ll crush you.”
“I want to feel every inch of you over me. Every bone, every muscle. All of you.”
Supporting part of his weight, he did cover her, completely. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her smooth stomach to his abs. Her hips to—
“Now,” she breathed. “It’s been too long.” She pulsed forward, took him inside and his full weight pressed upon her. “How can this be bad?” she whispered. “How can you not want this?”
Oh, he did want this. Her. More than anything. Over and over and over, and when he came inside her, again and again, thrusting into her, he took her with him. He could feel her body pulsing around him with every moan she breathed into his mouth. He collapsed against her, burying his face in her neck, her hair.
“Erica,” he breathed.
He shouldn’t have done it, but he pulled back and opened his eyes. Through that deep brown color, now glistening with emotion, he saw inside her for one instant.
He should’ve known. No commitments? No ties? For all her bravado, this woman’s core was ripe with softness, raw with vulnerability, and all he wanted to do was fold her in his arms and, this time, make slow and sweet love to her. They’d been hot and wild together, not crazy or scary, and he hadn’t lost anything. Except for his heart. Sex wasn’t the only thing he wanted from this woman.
He’d been fooling himself. This woman was everything he’d ever wanted—needed. She was strong, but loving. Tough, but kindhearted. He loved that she didn’t back down, that she gave as good as she got with a passion that matched his. She’d taken everything he’d given and thrown it right back at him. Her intensity matched his stroke for stroke, and when she came to him, he burned bright and hot.
He didn’t need sunshine and blue skies to soften his edges because the woman he loved had a few edges of her own. They were different in ways that made it exciting, and the same in every way that mattered. He’d fallen in love with her.
“Well, that was fun.” She rolled onto her side, closing him off.
“Hey,” he whispered, wanting to make love to her this time. Love. He kissed the back of her head, ran the back of his hand reverently along her side. He kissed her shoulder, slid his hand down her back, along her side, to come to rest at her waist. The bed he’d made wasn’t perfect. She was. Perfect for him.
Erica closed her eyes. She’d wanted sex and sex is exactly what she’d gotten. A tear slipped onto the pillowcase. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she possibly have thought that having sex with Garrett would solve anything?
“Come here,” he whispered.
When she didn’t move, he came to her, pressing flush against her back, his arms enveloping her. Softly, he brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed the hollow below her ear.
“I wasn’t through with you.” His words flowed by her ear and her breath quickened.
His hand wrapped around her waist, moved on to her stomach and pushed upward to her breast. The need she’d thought sated gathered all over again.
“I do want you. Over and over and over.”
She shifted onto her back and reached for him.
“No.” He grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands up by her head. “You set the pace last time. Now it’s my turn.” Then he lowered his mouth to hers, slowly, his eyes open and dark.
It was the sweetest, most gentle kiss Erica had ever felt. He made love to her mouth, then her neck, and then, sweet heaven, to her breasts. Her nipples hardened for him, and when he moved down her stomach, she squirmed and opened. He settled between her legs and patiently, quietly, expertly brought her to orgasm.
She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t dreamed it. After what seemed an eternity, she ran her hands through his hair and urged him upward. “Garrett,” she cried. “Please.”
“Please what?” he whispered against her.
“Make love to me.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” His smile was tender, but heated.
“I want you up here, my arms around you.”
The words had no sooner left her mouth than he was there, pressing against her, slipping inside, slowly making love to her. There was no fear. There were no worries. Tonight there was only the sweet sensation of Garrett inside her, the weight of him on her, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Only Garrett.
ERICA AWOKE BEFORE SUNRISE the next morning with Garrett’s arm heavy over her side, his hand cupping the underside of her breast, and his face buried in her hair. His chest rose and fell in a soft, steady rhythm. He was so much bigger than she that the mattress dipped under him, keeping her flush against him, but there was no place else she wanted to be. Never in her life had she been quite this content.
It couldn’t last. Even now, doubts threatened. Last night was last night. This morning, under the bright sunlight, Garrett would realize his mistake. He would see her for what she was, the exact type of woman he didn’t want in his life, and he would turn away and leave. It’s what men did. They left.
Better she prepare herself now. Better she protect what little was left of her heart.
GARRETT STIRRED IN HIS sleep. Something was wrong. Erica was gone. He snapped open his eyes and bolted upright. Samson! Then he saw light in the kitchen and heard the faint sounds of tinkering in the cabinets, water running in the sink, and he shut back down. Erica was fine. She’d just gotten out of bed.
Taking a big, calming breath, he pulled on a pair of boxers, dragged a shirt over his head, and walked quietly down the hall. Already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she was at the counter, making a pot of coffee. She fit there. In the kitchen. In the family room. And in his bed. Seeing her filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment. This woman, no other, belonged by his side, and as if these walls had been waiting for her all these months, this home suddenly seemed as much hers as his.
He moved behind her, drew her hair back and kissed her neck. “Take those clothes off and come back to my bed.”
She moaned, bent her neck for a moment and then straightened. “I have to go into work early. I promised Lynn I’d make tiramisu for a dessert special.”
“I’ll help you,” he whispered. “Later.”
“Jason is probably confused enough as it is. I don’t want him to wake up and find us.”
“He won’t be up for hours yet.” He turned her within the circle of his arms. “That might be enough time for what I have in mind.”
“Garrett.” She pushed against his chest. “I have to go.”
He dropped his hands to his sides and forced his feet to keep absolutely still. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“This. Pulling back.”
She looked away.
Tell her. Tell her you love her. Instead, he waited, silently.
“No commitments.” She stepped backward, away from him. “Remember? No ties.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Let’s be honest,” she whispered. “Last night was…nice—”
“Nice?” Anger flashed. His guts churned with something akin to fear. He was going to lose her. Tell her.
“Shh! You’ll wake up Jason.”
“Maybe he should wake up. Maybe he should see what a coward his aunt is being.”
She stalked toward the door. “I don’t have to take this.”
“Yes.” He grabbed her arm. “You do.”
She shook him off and faced him. “Between the two of us there isn’t one single smooth edge. I’m not ready for the ups and the downs, the love and the hate.”
“You sure seemed
ready enough last night.”
“Sex isn’t enough, Garrett.”
“Last night wasn’t only about sex. You know it.” I love you. If only he could say the words.
“I’m not what you want. Remember?”
She was so, so beautiful. “If you’re going to cut me, you’d better make it deeper than that.” As hard as it was, he made himself look straight into her eyes.
“All right.” She pushed against his chest, and this time he let her go. “I don’t love you, Garrett, and I never will. Turns out, you’re not what I want.”
“Dammit!” Furious, he turned around and swiped the counter clean with the back of his hand. A bowl smashed into pieces on hitting the ceramic floor. A stack of mail flew in the air. A couple of pots and pans clanked to the floor.
This sprite of a woman had snatched his heart right out of his chest, thrown it on the ground and stomped all over it. He threw back his head and nearly howled. The pain was gut-wrenching and devastating. With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew it had only just begun.
“Go. Leave,” he ground out. “In fact, why don’t you pack up today? Instead of going back to that damned apartment, why don’t you leave Mirabelle? You don’t belong here, anyway. Not anymore than I do.”
Without a backward glance, she left.
He clenched his fist, pent-up emotion coursing through him. Pacing now, he stepped on a shard of pottery and glanced at the floor. What was he doing smashing bowls and throwing pans? That wasn’t going to change anything.
He went to the window and watched her stalk down the hill, holding her head so proudly. “I love you,” he whispered into the silence, and telling her was the only chance in hell he had of taking away the pain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AT DUFFY’S THAT NIGHT, even the lighthearted jokes, conversation and laughter Doc, Bob and Dan brought to the bar wasn’t enough to shift Erica out of the funk she’d been in all day. With the white noise of the TV and jukebox music in the background, they were chatting about a salmon fishing tournament that had taken place more than ten years back, but she barely heard their conversation.
Was Garrett right about her? If he’d asked her to stay, if he’d told her he loved her, what then?
“I’m telling you, that salmon was only twenty-seven pounds,” Dan said, embellishing his statement with a good-natured pounding of his fist on the bar. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“It was twenty-nine pounds if it was an ounce, dammit,” Bob argued. “I caught it, I oughta remember.”
“Humph.”
“Doc?” Bob looked over at him. “Which one was it?”
Doc glanced at Erica and grinned. “I oughta be able to finagle a beer out of this one, don’t you think?”
Erica chuckled. “You guys are nuts.”
A body was pulled from Lake Michigan today…
The newscaster’s words on the TV behind her pulled Erica out of the conversation. Slowly, she turned around. As if she’d suddenly sunk into a bubble, the noisy sounds of the bar fell silent. She slipped into slow motion, focusing her every sense on the TV screen as the world around her continued moving along. The waitresses kept taking and delivering orders. The bartender kept pouring drinks. Normal. Everything else went on while usual as her world fell apart.
The remains are believed to be those of Marie Samson. The mother of Jason Samson…
Her sister was dead.
“Oh, no,” one of the men at the bar behind her said.
“Dammit.”
“Erica, you okay there?”
The reporters fired questions at the detective being interviewed. “Does this change the investigation in any way?”
“Well, it’s obviously a murder investigation now.”
“Do you think Jason is still alive?”
“Yes. We’re going under the assumption he’s still alive.”
“Erica?”
“Erica!”
A hand touched her shoulder. Lynn had come into the bar. She was out of breath and panting. “I came as soon as I saw the news.”
Everything dulled around her, the light, the sounds, the smells. Then someone wrapped their arms around her and held on, kept her from falling. It was Lynn. She felt soft and warm, like a mother.
“My sister is dead,” Erica whispered.
“I know.” Lynn squeezed tighter.
She heard Billy Samson’s name mentioned and quickly looked back up to listen to the TV newscaster.
A warrant has been issued for Billy Samson in connection with the murder of his wife, Marie Samson. Police have been unable to locate Samson….
“Good,” Lynn said. “You don’t have to worry about him any more.”
“No,” Erica said. “This is bad. Very, very bad.”
“Why?”
“If they can’t find him, that means he’s coming here.”
“What do you want us to do?” Dan asked.
“Just a minute.” Lynn put up a hand quieting him. “How do you know he’s coming here?”
“He wouldn’t disappear without Jason.” Erica ran for the door.
“Wait for Arlo.”
“No time!”
“Where you going?”
“To get Jason!” she yelled. “He’s having a sleepover with Brian.”
Erica ran, flat out, to Sarah’s apartment. Panting, she climbed the stairs. Except for a dim light shining through the kitchen shades, the apartment was dark. “Sarah!” she called, knocking on the door. “It’s Erica. Open up!”
While Erica waited, a vision of Billy having already broken into Sarah’s apartment flashed through her mind. It’s okay. It’s late. They’re probably asleep. When no one came to the door, she knocked again, and then pounded. “Sarah!”
Finally, a light turned on inside, and Sarah, sleepy-eyed, drew back the curtain and opened the door. “What’s going on?”
“Where’s Jason?” Erica went inside and shut the door behind her.
“Asleep. More than an hour ago.”
“I need to take him to Garrett’s.”
“Is everything all right?”
“No, but I don’t have time to explain.”
A look of concern passed over Sarah’s features, but she didn’t argue. “I’ll get him.”
Erica paced in the entryway. Only a moment later, Sarah returned with Jason trudging slowly behind her.
“Erica, why do I have to go home?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” She grabbed his hand.
“Is there anything I can do?” Sarah asked.
“Call Garrett. Please. Let him know I’m on my way.”
“Will do.”
Holding Jason’s hand, Erica ran down the steps. When they got down to the bottom, she stopped, looked around, listened, making sure they were alone. “Hop up on my back, kiddo.” She knelt down in front of Jason. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
“What’s wrong?”
She didn’t want to frighten him. And she couldn’t tell him, not now, not like this, that his mom was dead. “We have to hurry.” As soon as she’d situated him on her back, Erica jogged as fast as she could through the back streets of town, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.
“Erica?”
“Shhh,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you when we get to Garrett’s.”
“I’m scared.” His arms tightened almost painfully around her neck.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
When they reached the edge of the woods, the blackness of the night settled around them and she paused to listen. Other than one dim lamppost heralding the start of Garrett’s drive, there were no lights.
Something told her not to move onto the pitch-black darkness of Garrett’s driveway, but there was no other way to his house. To her right, she heard the sound of leaves rustling softly, too softly to be human. A small animal scurried on the forest floor.
Jason’s breath sounded in her ear. She hiked him up a lit
tle higher and got ready to run.
“Jason.” The voice was quiet and coming from the darkness. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” Billy stepped into the circle of light.
“Dad?”
“Come here, son, and give me a hug.”
Jason tensed on Erica’s back, but then he slipped down to the ground and walked obediently toward Billy.
“You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?” He lifted him up and hugged him, all the while keeping his gaze on Erica.
“No,” Jason said.
“We’re going to take a little trip, you and me. To some place fun.” Billy pointed toward the marina. “Erica? Why don’t you come and see us off.”
“What about my stuff?” Jason asked.
“We don’t have time. I’ve got a boat waiting for us.”
“But my woodworking kit, my—”
“I said—” Billy glared at him “—we don’t have time.”
All at once, the past seemed to come back to Jason. The joy that had taken months to return into the little boy’s life was wiped out within seconds. Fear filled his eyes and his arguments fell silent.
“You’re not taking him anywhere.” Erica held her ground between Billy and the shore.
“This boy is my son. And he’s coming with me. Aren’t you, buddy?”
“No,” Erica said. “He’s not.”
“Jason?” Though Billy’s voice was quiet, the underlying threat screamed out loud. “Move on by her.”
Her nephew glanced at Erica, but then Billy touched his shoulder and steered him toward the marina. Jason put one foot in front of the other like a robot.
“No!” Erica screamed, and lunged at Billy.
Billy flung out his right arm and connected with Erica’s cheek. She flew backward, stumbled and landed on the ground. “He’smy son!” Billy softly bit out. “Stay out of this!”
“No!” Erica said, standing back up. “Not this time. Never again.”
GARRETT CAME OUT OF his woodshop, where he’d been holed up from the moment late that afternoon when Sarah had come to get Jason for a playdate with Brian. He took a deep breath of crisp night air and turned his face to the black sky as crickets chirped slowly in the cooling air. He was tired. It’d been a long and awful day. He glanced at his watch and wondered what time Erica would be getting off. Would she come home or go to Sarah’s?
